


Promises Made, Promises Kept

by Caffiend



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Cheating Steve Rogers, F/M, Fluff, Heartbreak, Hydra, Infertility, Infidelity, Oral Sex, Sex, Supportive Avengers, Surprise pregnancy, Vaginal Sex, all the feels, broken engagements, gorgeous bucky barnes, loyal avengers, secret weapons, tasty bucky smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27554962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffiend/pseuds/Caffiend
Summary: In which you find that promises made by Steve Rogers are not promises kept.
Relationships: Bucky Barnes/OFC, Steve Rogers/OFC
Comments: 89
Kudos: 154





	1. Promises Made

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a lovely Tumblr mutual who said: "I know you don't have time for many requests, but you could please write me one where Steve deserts his fiancee and she gets revenge on him by being happy? I really need this right now. Thank you if you can." Girl, whoever he is, he DOES NOT DESERVE YOU. You deserve a Bucky. Don't you forget it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve Rogers is a heartless asshole.

_Goddamn, it hurt so much._

Whatever those assholes from Hydra managed to shoot from that futuristic stun gun thingie nailed you in the side and sent you six feet back until you crashed into the wall.

Well.

Halfway through the wall, actually. You knew this because you came to as Natasha and Bucky were trying to peel the crushed concrete and broken two by fours off of you. 

“Jacie? Honey, can you hear me?” Nat was patting your cheeks with her dusty gloves and you swiped at her weakly. 

“Stop it,” you groaned, “you’re making my eyes all gritty.”

“Oh, that’s the broken glass,” she said apologetically, wiping her hands on her catsuit, which looked, unfairly, completely undamaged.

You felt gigantic arms slide under you and for a moment you relaxed. It was Steve. Steve had you. Then a strand of hair from Bucky’s man-bun brushed your cheek. “I got you, doll. Let’s get you on the jet and Banner can get a look at you.”

So, yeah. Bucky was the one holding you like you weighed less than a loaf of bread. And Steve, your boyfriend (fiancee actually but you weren’t telling anyone yet) was standing across the room, shock turning those patriotic blue eyes blank. And then the burning started up just under your ribs like someone took a blowtorch to you and then you screamed and blessedly, passed out.

Resurfacing, you heard the reassuring beep of one of Dr. Cho’s endless and clever machines. Trying to lift your arm, you groaned. There were tubes everywhere- both arms, one in your side where you could feel the wound left by those bastards from Hydra and even one up your nose. Gross. 

“Hey… uh. Anyone around?” You sounded like shit, voice scratchy. 

The crimson hair of Natasha popped into your vision. “You’re awake! How do you feel? Let me get you something to drink.” She watched approvingly as if you were doing something more impressive than taking a weak sip of water and nearly coughing it back up.

Smiling as she pushed another pillow behind your back, you looked around. “How long have I been out?”

Oddly, this seemed to anger her, Natasha’s pretty pink lips tightened to a thin line, her focus on your pillows. “Two weeks. Dr. Cho had you in the Cradle for three days, trying to put you back together.”

Rubbing your forehead, you tried to concentrate. “Oh, yeah? So what did those assholes shoot me with?”

Heaving a sigh, the redhead elegantly seated herself. “Some experimental gun. It was, apparently, the thing Fury sent us in for. He was having us look for schematics. His intelligence reports didn’t indicate the weapon had been constructed yet.”

“Yeah,” you said wryly, flinching as you shifted in bed. “I guess I made that clear. What did it do to me?”

“It was…” she hesitated, “it was supposed to burn you from the inside out. We barely got you back in time. The weapon’s meant to cause maximum damage from a single bullet. You coded out twice on the way home.”

Your eyes widened. “Well, shit. Um, did you get the weapon?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Natasha nodded, smoothing your blanket. “And the bullet from you. Very helpful.”

“Oh, good,” you said, only half sarcastically. “Am I gonna live?”

She smiled, your wily Russian drinking buddy, “So it seems. Dr. Cho has to run a few followup tests, but everyone’s amazed you’re alive. Even with the Cradle… we weren’t sure you’d make it.”

Squeezing her hand, you said, “Well thank you, honey, for looking out for me.” Looking around the room, “Where’s Steve? I’m sure he’s been a mess.” You just knew when her lips did that angry pressing together thing again that Shit Was Fucked Up.

“He’s not here, Jace. I don’t know where he is, but… no one’s seen him for about a week.”

Visitors came and went, Sam bringing your favorite muffins from the Magnolia Bakery, Bruce patting your hand repeatedly and Tony - fuck, Tony insisted on pulling up a 4D screen to show you just how far the bullet tunneled into you. With lots of explanation and hand gestures that made you mildly queasy. 

But no Steve.

Bucky was there, though. Every day. A calm, solid presence, rubbing your neck when your brain felt like it was on fire, trying to shed the toxins from the bullet’s residue, sneaking in a shake filled with chunks of Snicker’s and hiding it under his chair every time Dr. Cho strolled past, staring at him suspiciously.

He was painting your toenails this particular evening while you watched the Umbrella Acadamy on Netflix. You’d been arguing about the bullshit scenario they were using for time travel when finally, you fell silent, staring at his long, surprisingly graceful fingers meticulously attending to your pedicure.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” his long hair fell over his face, still intent on his work with the poison green nail polish. 

“Where’s Steve?”

His hands stilled, holding on to your foot. “I don’t know, doll.”

“I don’t believe you,” your voice was surprisingly steady. “You always know. What’s going on, Bucky?”

His eyes were so beautiful, you thought absently, more of a slate greyish-blue than Steve’s, and your heart thudded to see how sad they looked. “He just… I don’t know. He talked with Dr. Cho when you came out of the Cradle and left. He’s not answering his phone. His tracker’s off.” 

_‘Oh, shit,’_ you thought, _‘he looks like he wants to cry. How fucked up is this?’_

“Jacie, I’m sorr-”

“Hey,” you interrupted, “let’s not- you know, let’s just not talk about it. It’s okay.” Reaching out blindly, you grabbed Glamazon Glitter Black from the pile of nail polish. “Will you make polka dots with this?”

You were helped back to your suite - the one you shared with Steve - by Bucky and Natasha when Dr. Cho finally busted you out of the medical wing, both keeping hands in the general direction of you in case you stumbled. You wandered around for a minute as they both stood by the door, a little stunned.

Everything was gone.

Well, Steve’s shit, anyway. His shield and clothes. His sketchbooks. His framed photos of him and Bucky, group pictures of your friends. There were a couple left, those of the two of you. Picking up one, you stared at it for a moment. It was from the night he’d proposed, both of you laughing, looking at each other as the waiter took the photo with your phone. You looked so happy.

When did-” your nose was running and you wiped it with the back of your hand. “When he do this?” They were both silent but you stared at Natasha, eyes narrowed. “Don’t give me that look. You know fucking everything that goes on around here.”

“Jace…”

“WHEN, NATASHA?”

Her slim shoulders drooped. “Just before he left. His stuff’s in a suite on the other side of the compound.”

Your knuckles were white, gripping the frame. “Look, just… I wanna be alone, all right? Thank you both for… just go now, okay?”

“Doll? Why don’t we go get some food and-” You walked into the bedroom while Bucky’s appeasing voice followed you, cutting off abruptly as you shut the door.

You’d had a boyfriend in high school who’d taught you the meaning of the word “gaslighting.” That everything was fine when you knew it wasn’t. That what he was doing to you was insane, even when he pretended it was all your overreactions and “childishness.” So when Steve walked through the door of the gym where you were beating the shit out of a 200-pound punching bag, you were not surprised, not even enraged to see that he was calmly taping his hands, chatting with one of the junior agents he’d taken under his wing and acting like he’d not been MIA for two weeks while you were lying in a hospital bed and then walking around your empty suite. Yep, Steve looked amazing in a clean white t-shirt, golden hair neat and tidy and his strong, authoritative voice instructing the junior agent - who clearly had a massive man-crush - about the finer points of hand to hand combat. 

Indeed, your (ex, you were guessing) fiance looked his usual, noble and handsome self. Calm and untroubled. You know, like he hadn’t left you half-buried in a wall and never spoke to you again. So…

“HEY, STEVE FUCKING ROGERS! What the actual fuck? Really? This is how you’re going to play this?”

The gym emptied in moments, innocent humans and enhanced Avengers alike scattering like roaches under a flashlight. Though Bucky was lingering by the door, clearly worried as he allowed Sam to pull him away.

Steve’s head shot up, eyes wide and offended at your vulgarities. 

“Oh, that’s right,” you were striding over to him, fists clenched so tight that the tape was peeling itself off your knuckles. “You only like it when I swear in bed. When you’re fucking me.”

“Stop!” Steve had the gall to look pained, “Don’t talk like that, it’s beneath y-”

“DON’T YOU-” your finger halted, pointed at him and your hand trembled a little. “How _dare_ you. Where have you been? You just… left me? You just walked the fuck out of here and disappeared for two weeks and now you’re acting like we were never together? What is wrong with you!” You hated the hitch in your voice, hated how weak it made you sound. “Why?”

He’d gone pale, your golden boy. Your perfect, handsome, noble fiance who was currently pretending he had no idea what you were talking about.

“I can’t - I…” he turned from you for a minute, running his hand over the back of his hair. Heaving a deep breath Steve looked back at you. “It was seeing you in that Hydra nest, shot into that wall and you screaming like that. I just…” His eyes were glistening and for a second, you thought you could forgive him anything, anything really because he looked like your Steve again. “I realized I could lose you. It never hit me before. That I could fall in love with you and marry you and you could die.”

Your jaw had dropped and you knew it made you look like a complete simpleton but you couldn’t stop yourself. “Steve, we’re all going to die. And in this crew, maybe sooner than later, but-”

“I can’t do this again!” he roared at you. “When I went into the ice and lost Peggy, lost my life and everything I knew, it nearly killed me. I wanted to die. When I fell for you, I thought it was my second chance.” A sweet smile spread over his perfectly sculpted face. “I thought God was giving me a second chance at happiness. I started dreaming about having a home. About you having my children. About being a family. And when Dr. Cho kept talking and talking about everything that happened to you - what that weapon did to you?" He was pacing now, hands on his narrow hips. “Everything was gone, Jacie! You could be gone, just like that! I can’t-” his voice was choked and he shook his head. “I can’t go through that again. I’m sorry.”

Your heart was thudding against the fragile wall of your chest and you felt light-headed, like that time Natasha accidentally clocked you in the back of the head during training. “You’re… Steve, we’re engaged. When you proposed to me three months ago you told me you would love me forever.” You stopped, gritting your teeth. You were not going to fall apart and cry like a little bitch right now. “I never thought I’d fall in love, much less get married. You wore me down. You told me-” Aw, fuck. Your voice was cracking. “You told me you’d never give up until I loved you. And now, because I got hurt and you have this sudden realization of mortality, you’re going to leave me? Fuck!” Your nose was running again and you knew your face was beet-red. You were not one of those girls who cried pretty. “Were you really just going to move out of our place and just… what, pretend we never happened? Are you really that big of an asshole? Seriously, Steve, were you really going to do that?”

He couldn’t look at you. Of course not. “I didn’t know how to say it, Jace. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re fucking kidding, right? You didn’t want to hurt me? You thought it would be easier to ghost me? What the hell, Steve! Are you like twelve years old? And you think you can handle a wife and a family?”

“I WILL!” he shouted back at you. “I will! Just not with you!” Even Steve looked a little shocked at the words coming out of his mouth, but he didn’t take them back.

You’d been punched in the stomach before. More than once, unfortunately. It was just the life of an agent but it never hurt as much as it did now. Even that Hydra bullet in your side wasn't so bad in comparison. His words hurt more than any blow you’d ever taken. “Un-fucking-believable,” you whispered.

Steve frowned, his handsome face a bit petulant. “And your language. I always hated your cursing.”

Your hand went to the chain around your neck. When he’d proposed to you during a picnic on the beach, he’d gotten down on one knee, presenting you with a beautiful diamond solitaire ring. But it was off your finger and on the silver chain before you’d gone back to the compound. You’d agreed - well, Steve had convinced you - that it wasn’t the right time to break the news. “I want you all to myself, doll,” he’d said tenderly, “just our secret before everyone gets ahold of it and it’s public and something different.” It made sense. He’d made sense. Until this moment.

“Dr. Cho gave this back to me when I woke up from the Cradle,” you said, absently spinning the ring back and forth on the chain, the diamond glittering under the gym’s lights. You chuckled humorlessly, “She looked sad when she returned it, I didn’t understand why. Now I wonder if you ever would have let me wear it.”

He had the nerve to look pained, “Sweetheart, I-”

“Just. Shut up, Steve.” Your shaking hands couldn’t get the goddamned thing over your neck so you yanked it off, ignoring the sting. You wanted to put the ring in his hand, but you didn’t think you could touch him, so you dropped it on the mat between you. “Go find your fertile, apple-pie wife. And fuck you.”

The worst part? As you walked out the door, he didn’t follow after you. He didn’t say a word.

It wasn’t so bad. The trick was, you just had to pretend you were someone else, like this wasn’t happening to you. It was happening to some other poor sucker who fell in love with a heartless asshole who went about his day, smiling and being all Captain America. Steve even attempted to greet you the same way he did the rest of the team at your next briefing, and you ignored him. Actually, to your malevolent satisfaction, everyone kind of ignored him for a while. Although you were pretty sure Bucky didn’t ignore him because Steve showed up a couple of days after the Infamous Gym Incident with a black eye and a split lip. And there was only one person in the Avengers compound capable of marking up that pretty face.

So, the you who was being someone else whose heart was definitely not bleeding out into her chest went about the work of an Avenger. Beating up bad guys. Gathering intel. Sparring with Natasha. And doing public appearances. Which was also called Making The Avengers Accessible And Endearing To the General Public. You didn’t usually mind, but this particular visit to a pediatric cancer hospital included some press, which drove you out of your fucking mind. You wanted to be able to talk to these little people without some asshole photographer breathing down your neck and making you feel like an idiot.

“Can I touch your arm?”

Your heart freaking melted as Bucky smiled down at the tiny girl, bald and pale but grinning as he carefully lifted her up with his flesh arm. “Sure you can, doll. Tap on it. Does it sound hollow?” Her sweet giggle followed you as you sat down next to a blushing teenager in a wheelchair. “Hey, little sister. What’s up?” 

“Could you sign my cast?” she mumbled in a rush, “Becauseyou’remyfavoriteAvenger.”

“No way!” you smiled, pulling out your silver sharpie pen, “What’s your name?”

“Dora. And don’t ask if I said Dory!”

Laughing, you started an elaborate tattoo-ish drawing on her cast, “Oh, come on, you didn’t love _Finding Nemo?_ Really?”

Then your happiness evaporated like a popped bubble.

“So, Steve…” came the flirty voice of some TMZ reporter, “anything you can tell us about a certain blonde you’ve been taking to dinner?”

Your hand shook slightly, so you steadied it, tongue poking between your teeth as you concentrated drawing on the plaster. You had black hair. Wild and thick and coarse.

“Oh, Shellie,” he was using his practiced chuckle, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You moved on before you heard anymore.

Sam nudged you as you all piled back in the van. “It’s Momma’s Drinking Night,” he said, “and you, little mama, need a drink.”

Fuck, that hurt. Sam had taken to calling you “little mama” for whatever reason after you’d become friends, but the title stung like fire now. You probably would never be anyone’s mama. Certainly not Steve’s baby mama, anyway. “Eh, thanks sweetie. Not tonight, I’m really tired.” There were protests, which warmed your heart. And no invitation extended to Steve, which almost made you grin for the first time since that Hydra bullet went into your chest. But you still went back to your room. “Take a shower,” you coached yourself. You’d found it was easier to function sometimes if you told yourself what to do. “You’ll feel better and then you’ll order a pizza.” 

You were just drying your unmanageable mass of hair when there was a knock on the door. "Pizza delivery!"

"Really?" You opened the door to find Bucky holding your pizza and a six-pack of beer, "Because you sound suspiciously like St. Bucky, patron saint of small children obsessed with robotics."

"That's my day job," he sidestepped you, putting the pizza on the coffee table and taking over the remote. "Get some plates."

After a couple of beers, it was almost like old times, when Bucky would make you laugh hard enough to hurt yourself. He even let you have two pieces of your own pizza, which was better than usual. “You should have gone out with everyone else,” you sighed, rubbing your still-throbbing scar. “I’m not such good company these days.”

Bucky put a massive arm over your shoulders, tucking you into his side. “You’re my best time, doll. You always have been.” Your eyes were getting wet and you tried to turn your head. “Hey, don’t.” His metal hand touched your cheek, very gently turning you back to look at him. “It’s okay to cry, I got you. You don’t have to hide from me.”

Aaaaand, the dam burst. It felt like something was tearing the sobs right out of your chest and for a while you could only make garbled noises while you soaked the front of Bucky’s shirt. “What did I do wrong?” you finally managed to gasp out, “Why?”

Pulling you onto his lap, Bucky silently rocked you back and forth for a while. “You didn’t do anything wrong, sweetheart. Steve is a fucking idiot. I don’t get it. I don’t get him. Not anymore.” You were sniffling into his warm neck and he smelled good. You felt him kiss the top of your head. “You’re beautiful.” He kissed your forehead. “Smart.” Another kiss on your cheek, “Brave.” The other cheek felt his warm lips, “Funny.” His last, very soft kiss landed on the tip of your nose, “And perfect. In every way, Jacie. You are.” You were looking up at him and his eyes were so kind. His hand was still touching your face with such delicacy and for the first time in forever, you felt safe. And then there was a loud “thud!” as someone came reeling down the hallway and fell onto the floor. You both pulled apart as you heard a high-pitched giggle that sounded suspiciously like Wanda’s. 

You sighed, “Honey, the kids are home.” 

Standing up from his nice, warm lap was surprisingly difficult, even as you could hear the accented whining tone of your favorite Eastern European redhead outside your door. “Jacie, I can’t get uuup! I have fallen and I can’t get uuup!”

For the next couple of days, it felt like maybe the bleeding from your heart was slowing down a little. It helped that Steve was off on an incredibly boring surveillance mission in Puerto Rico. During hurricane season. Not seeing his stupid face helped. You could do this. You wouldn’t be waking up every morning crying and going to bed every night feeling numb and empty forever. This was going to work out okay.

So Tony’s fancy-ass black-tie fundraiser turned out to be quite the eye-opener.

“Please don’t put that on me,” you moaned, trapped on a chair while Natasha approached you, wielding an eyeliner wand.

“Please,” she snorted, “I have perfected the art of the Smokey Evening Eye, whereas your ability is primarily at the Dead Hooker in the Alleyway skill level. So shut up and let me make you so fucking gorgeous that every man in the room will stab the others to ask you to dance.”

“Your pep talk skills are not strong, Tasha,” drawled Wanda, who was zipping you into a pretty spectacular dress, green, with silver accents and a tight bodice that guaranteed you’d have the best posture of your life just to keep it up over your tits and a big, flared skirt.

You almost aspirated the champagne you were trying to drink through your nose, but it was a promising beginning to the evening. Your second ego boost was the look on Bucky and Bruce’s faces when you swept through the door of the ballroom, packed with New York’s various celebrities, politicians and glitterati. Bucky gave a low whistle. “Damn, Jacie. You look… _damn.”_

"Yeah?" you said shyly, fussing with the skirt. "Thanks, Buck." 

Yeah, it was all going pretty well until Sam broke off in the middle of one of his extremely long, complex, dirty jokes that didn't turn out to be dirty because it was so long that by the end of it he forgot the punchline and stiffened. "Oh, shit. Hey, Jacie, come here, little mama. I'm gonna buy you a drink."

Looking down at your half-drunk glass of wine, you arched a brow at him. "Dude, what are you-" Turning to follow his gaze, you watched as Steve strolled through the door in a perfectly tailored tuxedo and a petite, elegantly beautiful blonde.

Natasha rescued your tilting glass before the Bordeaux spilled down the front of your dress. Her earnest, hushed voice kept fading in and out, like radio static until the music ended and someone coughed into the mic. 

“Excuse me,” it was that fucking Steve, of course. “I apologize for interrupting the evening, but on a night of good news for the recipients of the Stark Charitable Trust, I wanted to add a little of my own.”

You would not turn around. You would not turn around. You could vaguely see Bucky reaching out for you, but you couldn’t move.

“...I think you all know Sharon Carter, one of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s most valuable assets.”

 _Carter,_ your lips silently shaped. Carter, like… Peggy Carter?

“This beautiful woman has done me the honor of accepting my proposal. I’m proud to announce that we will be Mr. and Mrs. Steve Rogers very soon. I wanted to share the good news first…” you heard him pause, and clear his throat. “Among friends. So thank you all for sharing in our joy.”

There was applause then, you were pretty sure. You could feel the vibration of it but you couldn’t seem to hear anything. 

Anything at all.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I can’t ever get anything into a single chapter, so another one is on the way. I promise I’m working on Vampire Bucky and There’s No Saying Goodbye to Me and Jonathan Pine, but I think we can all agree this was a heartbreak emergency.


	2. Promises Kept

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you find what you always really wanted ... was someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This comes from a request from a heart-broken mutual on Tumblr. Honey, fuck that guy. And pawn the engagement ring. You deserve a Bucky. We got you.

You’d been in an earthquake once, in San Francisco during a mission. There were Iranian operatives shooting at you as you’d raced over a cracking concrete parking lot to get to cover, each convulsive surge of earth nearly knocking you off your feet. 

It felt a lot like that tonight. Your Louboutins felt dangerously wobbly as you carefully picked your way through the crowds in the ballroom, Natasha and Wanda acting as the world’s more fearsome-looking wing women. You were carefully expressionless, eyes straight ahead so you wouldn’t have to look at any of the guests. Nearly everyone there knew you and Steve had been together, even if the engagement was a secret. You wouldn’t give anyone the fucking satisfaction of watching you crumble. Inside, though, you felt like the seemingly invulnerable concrete in that parking lot, disintegrating under the force of something beyond your comprehension. Stabbing the elevator button for your floor, you stared straight ahead, not even looking at your silent friends. The three of you walked lockstep into the elevator and turned to look at as the doors closed, Bucky and Sam standing at the entrance of the ballroom, looking stricken.

“Honey, what can we do?” Natasha looked at you, tears simmering and making you realize you’d never seen her cry. Not ever. Not even after all the unspeakable things that had happened to her. 

Forcing a smile, you said, “Could you help me take this dress off? I don’t want to tear it, it goes back to Dolce and Gabbana tomorrow.” Your friends broke into a wet little chuckle and helped you free from the constricting bodice. “I’m going to…” you paused for a moment, standing there in your underwear. “I’m going to… go.” Their eyes widened with alarm, so you attempted to nod confidently. “I’m going to my family’s cabin for a couple of days. Just. You know. I’m going to, uh…” You grabbed the first pair of jeans you could find. “Just to clear my head.”

Wanda handed you a sweater. “We will go with you! It will be good. Just us three.” She smiled at you tremulously, but you shook your head.

“No. You both have the mission to Kolkata tomorrow, remember?” They both shook their heads desperately, but you hushed them. “No, we don’t do that. People are counting on you, you know? I… I got this. You don’t have to worry. I just have to get the fuck out of the compound. Just for a bit.” 

They didn’t look convinced, but they helped you pack an overnight bag and walked with you to the garage. Hugging you fiercely, Natasha whispered, “I will gut him. I swear it.”

Startled into a laugh, you hugged her back. “No, you won’t. You’ll ignore him in that scary as fuck way you have that could give someone frostbite. And I’m going to go make like sixteen german chocolate cakes and eat them all.”

“Save me a piece?” Wanda asked, but she hugged you goodbye, too.

“Say goodbye to Bucky for me, okay?” You don’t know why he came to mind instantly, but you could still see that pained look on his face as you left. “Tell him I’ll be fine.”

Seventy-two hours passed in a drunken haze as you wandered around your family's cabin in your underwear, usually gripping a bottle of wine. Your dad was going to be so pissed at you when he discovered the dent you'd put in his wine cellar. Oh, well. You did try to bake those aforementioned cakes, but you fell asleep and woke to the sound of the smoke alarm tearing a hole through your cerebellum and that ended that plan. Also, your mom was never going to forgive the scorch marks on her prized Aga oven. Oh, well again.

On day four, you woke up on the couch to see Bucky standing over you, his gigantic shadow blocking out the sunlight coming through the glass front of the cabin. “Hey…” you mumbled, self-consciously rubbing the marks from the denim couch now embedded in your cheek. “How’d you find me? Oh, wait. You're a spy, so..."

His brow arched. "I called your folks."

"Oh, shit," you groaned, "I didn't want them to know! Shit!" Running your hands through the snarls in your hair, you tried to think. "What did they say?"

Bucky was rooting through your bag for a hairbrush. "Your mother said she always hated Steve."

You snorted unattractively. This was true. Mom had always given Steve a narrow-eyed, suspicious stare like he was a pot roast she thought had gone bad. _"He's too pretty,"_ she'd say, _"I don't like him."_

"And your dad..." His strong hands were gently parting your hair into sections and running the brush through the mess. "He asked me if I could make it look like an accident."

That did it. You went off in a howl of laughter that didn't stop for maybe five minutes. Bucky joined you, both of you leaning weakly against each other as you clutched at your throbbing scar, which apparently did not like you being happy. Just like your ex-fiance.

After forcing you into the shower with the simple statement, “You smell like a gym sock,” Bucky greeted you with some soup and crackers. 

“This is nice.” You were nibbling on the Triscuits and looking at the lovely blaze he’d built in the fireplace for you.

“You have to come back,” he spoke with the calm certainty that used to comfort you. Now, it was just irritating as fuck.

“No, I don’t,” you retorted, flinching at your childish tone.

Putting his feet up on the coffee table, Bucky slung an arm over your shoulder, just like all those times back at home. “Yeah, you do. You’ve worked for this your entire life. You’re good at it. You’re going to let that star-spangled asshole run you off?”

You put the cracker down. “Bucky… sweetie. This is impacting your friendship with Steve. You two are brothers. I love you too much to come between you.”

You could see he was shocked even as the words flew out of his mouth. “And I love you too much to let you give up. You are not responsible for my relationship with Steve. What about my- what about my friendship with you?”

“You love me?” Well, that was fucking stupid, nice going Jacie, really smooth, and-

And then you were somehow on your back, one hand gripping Bucky’s wonderfully soft hair and the half-eaten Triscuit in the other and he was kissing you. Holy shit, he was an amazing kisser. Wow, those plump lips of his and his beard felt really soft and-

“I’m sorry.”

“Wait, what?” You had whiplash from being hauled back up and suddenly he was on the other end of the couch. Breathing deeply. “You’re sorry? Please don’t be sorry.” His hands were rubbing up and down those thick thighs of his and you were suddenly struck with the desire to be doing that with your pussy, just straddling him and going to town on-

Bucky cleared his throat. “This isn’t the time. But yeah, I love you. As a friend first. But I love you as… I, _you,_ I mean. All those things I told you on Pizza Night are true. But right now you have to figure yourself out and, uh, discover your core of inner strength and…”

You were laughing uncontrollably, but your heart was still so warm. 

He grinned at you sheepishly. “Shut up. I might have Googled getting over a bad breakup, but it’s still true. And I’m not going to let you give up something you love. So get some sleep and tomorrow we’re going back to the compound because you have a mission on Thursday.”

Fuck. Bucky was so beautiful. It’s not like you were never aware of that before, but his face was reflected in the firelight, shading those high cheekbones and his lips that you suddenly really wanted to kiss again. “Will you come sleep with me?” He raised a brow at you. “Just sleep!” you said defensively, “Just because it’s… uh, really cold here at night.”

“You’ll be fine,” he said unsympathetically.

Still awake several hours later, you groaned and rolled over again, checking your phone. “Fuuuck,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes. How could you sleep knowing that good-looking bastard was in the next bedroom and that he’d taken off his pants and sweater and was only sleeping in his boxer briefs? Which outlined his ass really well? Pulling a blanket over your shoulders, you hovered in his doorway. “I can’t sleep.”

He rolled over, sighing. “Yeah, I know. You won’t shut up, so neither can I.”

Edging over to the bed, you attempted your most innocent smile. “I’ll be quiet if you let me get in bed with you.”

Sighing, Bucky flipped back the quilt. “Get in. But we’re not messing around.”

Sadly, you realized after fifteen minutes of your best attempts at seduction that he was serious, so you tucked your head under his chin and fell asleep against the wonderfully hot surface of his skin.

It was a week later and one successful mission down when you ran into Steve again. You were feeling pretty good. Bucky loved you, even though he refused to kiss you until you ‘had time to work this shit out in your head.’ Everyone cheered when you came back. You’d beaten the shit out of this asshole from Kosovo who’d been trafficking women and children. Technically, he’d already surrendered but you just wanted to be sure he was good and surrendered. And after an excellent workout where you’d pinned a flailing Clint on the mat three times, you decided to clean out your locker and do some laundry. Plucking out socks and sports bras, you were humming and content until you heard _his_ voice.

“I see you’re just clearing everything out. Getting ready to go.”

Shit. You’re covered in sweat, yours and Clint’s, and wearing your baggiest leggings with the hole in the knee. Steve, of course, looked perfect in jeans that fit him well enough that you felt like you should thank Levi Strauss for them and arms folded over his broad chest. “Excuse me?”

Steve had the gall to smile proudly. “I think it’s a good choice. Moving on. It’ll be good for you.”

Your eyes narrowed. “You think I’m leaving the Avengers?”

“Well… yes,” he said innocently, “I heard you turned in your resignation. I think it’s for the best. Sharon’s going to be around a lot more. Taking up some of the slack on the missions, so…”

Feeling a flush of rage so intense that it felt like someone set you on fire, you set your bag on the floor. “Your darling fiancee is going to be going on missions? Putting herself in danger? Possibly risking her life? You know, making you wonder if you could LOSE HER AT ANY FUCKING MOMENT?”

Steve’s handsome face was blank for a moment as he realized his fuckup. “It’s just you’ll be leaving a hole on the roster, so until we find a new-”

“You bastard,” you spat, pushing past him. Turning just before you left, you added, “I’m not leaving. Your precious Sharon - that’s Peggy’s niece, right? Grandniece? A little incestuous, but okay, is going to have to get used to me. Because I’m not leaving.”

So, this part was much, much worse than you expected. Perky, delicate little Sharon ended up on the same mission roster as you not two months later, though thank god you’d been spared having to work with that rat bastard of an ex. She was competent. The others were kind and looked out for her, and you swallowed your resentment because they’d done that for you when you’d been a newbie. Still, it was infuriating that you’d broken two ribs before getting the upper hand on this gigantic fucking Hydra thug and knocking his ‘roided ass out.

“You okay?” Bucky was helping you up, avoiding your wounded side. 

“Yeah,” you groaned, “nothing an ace wrap won’t fix.”

Sharon’s sweet, high-pitched voice sounded from behind you. “Does she always get hurt? Honestly, how do you all get anything done when you have to keep patching her up?” 

Watching your hand clench into a fist, Natasha said sharply, “Shut the hell up. She’s a respected member of the team. You’re just fucking Captain America.”

Even though you appreciated Nat’s defense, her words punched you right in the heart.

Walking out of Medical post-mission, you were exhausted. You needed a shower and a drink and bed in any order, but all three were necessary. So you didn't see Sharon before you heard her. 

"Why won't you just go!" she snapped.

With a sigh, you paused for a moment. "Go where?"

Sharon huffed out a spiteful little laugh. “Anywhere but here. Why won’t you take a hint?”

Cracking your neck, you smiled at her ominously. This little blonde thing had no idea how close she was to death. “And what hint would that be, kitten?”

She crossed her arms defiantly under her perky little breasts. Her engagement ring’s brilliant diamond flashed in the light. “Steve was never going to marry you,” Sharon said with disgust. “He proposed to you to make me jealous. Lucky for him, it worked.” Looking at you, she burst into laughter. “Oh, dear. You didn’t know, did you? You really thought someone like Steve Rogers would marry _you?_ Oh, my god…” The blonde was giggling and you were heading towards her and suddenly an arm went around your waist and lifted you off your feet.

“She’s not worth it,” Bucky’s lips were against your ear, trying to get through the blood-red cotton candy haze covering your brain. “C’mon, Jace. She’s nothing to you.”

“I can’t believe you’re taking her side, James,” you could hear her voice growing shriller, more furious as Bucky hauled you away. “You’re Steve’s best friend! You’re SUPPOSED TO BE LOYAL!”

Back in your room, Bucky threw you on your bed and had the door double-locked before you finished your second bounce from the landing. Kneeling in front of you, he smiled. God, he had the kindest, sweetest smile. “You okay, doll?”

You pondered this. “Yeah… Yeah, actually. I am. I’m glad she was stupid enough to try to hurt me. I would not have known that otherwise.”

He looked pained, “I don’t think he-”

You hummed absently, shaking your head. “No. She was right. I can see it now. It never felt real. I’d wear that ring on a chain around my neck and wonder why it wasn’t on my finger. But I never took it off the chain, not even when I was alone. It was never mine. And frankly…” your legs were winding around his lovely, narrow waist and he didn’t seem to notice yet, still focused on your words. “I’m glad. Because one day soon I would have looked at Steve and realized what a gigantic, fucking mistake he was.”

His brows drew together. “But, you love-”

“I loved the idea of Steve Rogers,” you corrected, fingers beginning to card through his long, thick hair. “I thought, well, of course I love him because he’s Steve fucking Rogers.” When he laughed, you squeezed your legs tighter. “See? He would have been all offended and shit because I’d cursed. But you…” you pressed your forehead against his, rubbing your cheek against his scruff, “you think it’s funny. You think I’m funny. And I think… I am so lucky that you were willing to wait. Because I would have lost the perfect man.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky said gravely, “I would always be your friend. No matter what.”

Swallowing hard, you asked, “Would you be more?”

Here you were, back again on your… uh… back, but this time naked and helping Bucky shimmy out of those really well-fitting jeans but they were in your way right now so they had to go. One hand stroked the really impressive swell of his cock through his boxers as your other clutched a handful of his hair, still moaning as his lips moved over yours. Sliding just the tip of his tongue between the seam of your lips, he traced your teeth, sliding slickly in and out, in and out, and god, did you hope his cock would be doing just the same thing soon. But your new suitor had other plans, and with a wink, Bucky threw your legs over his ridiculously broad shoulders and dove for your center.

“Oh, my GOD what areyoudoingsweetbabyjesusthat’s-” You could feel his laughter, muffled against your pussy as he licked and sucked along you, driving his tongue up your channel and then slithering along your lips to latch on to your clit, sucking with an enthusiasm that sent you into your first orgasm, legs straight and toes pointed as you gasped. 

One thick finger, then another slid inside you with care, gently stroking and scissoring up your passage as Bucky praised you in a flatteringly hoarse voice, “Good girl. Now you’re going to give me another one.”

“Oh, I…” you moaned, back arching as he found a soft spot inside that he scratched very gently, with just the tip of his fingernail and it sent you into a spasm. Your fingers spread out over the skin of his back, absently marking the scar tissue and beautiful musculature of this man’s body. Palms smoothing down the bulk of his biceps, warm flesh and cool metal. “Come here, Bucky,” you panted, “I wanna kiss you some more, okay?”

But as he slid up, you slid down, winking on your way before your mouth latched on to the soft, thick head of his cock. “Oh, shit, Jacie!” he groaned, and then yelped a little as you smoothly slid him to the back of your throat, and then down it, not stopping until your nose touched the crisp curls at the base of him. Pulling air in through your nose, you sighed happily. Bucky was thick. Impressively, perfectly, wonderfully, porn-star worthy, wait, way past porn-star worthy thick. And throbbing in your mouth and you were going to make sure the first time he came was like the way he’d gotten yours. 

Cupping his heavy balls, you gently rolled them between your fingers as you felt the thick muscles of his thighs tighten around your shoulders. “Mmmm-hmmm,” you hummed helpfully, pulling off his cock, suckling the tip and diving back down again. You could feel his sculpted abdominals heaving against your cheek and you gloated. 

You wanted to make Bucky feel as overwhelmed as you did. You wanted him to know you would make him feel better than any woman ever could. Any man, either. Anyone. And when he came, you gleefully swallowed, hearing his gasp, “Ohhhh, FUCK, JACIE!” as his beautiful body shuddered. “You’re gonna…” he panted, “you’re gonna pay for that.” Rolling you over, he caged your head between his forearms, stroking the hair out of your eyes. “I love you, doll.” God, he said it so sweetly, this man who you know could tear the hatch off a tank and you knew it because you’d seen him do it, but he was being so delicate that you could barely feel his fingers. “I want to be inside you, but…” He swallowed, staring down at you.

“But what?” you asked, stroking his shoulders, running a finger over his lips. This beautiful, perfect, kind man.

“Only if you love me back,” Bucky finished. “Not as a rebound. Not to make you feel better. Because you love me. Because you want to be with me. I don’t want a fling. I want you.”

You put a hand on the side of his face, thumb tracing his cheekbone. “I only want you. I want to be your… I’ll be whatever you want. A couple. But I just want you.” The relief in his eyes made you tear up a little, but you spread your thighs invitingly as he slid between them. You’d never been able to look a lover in the eyes before. It seemed too… personal. Too intrusive. But you and Bucky stared at each other, mapping each expression and savoring each moan as he slid inside you, painfully slowly, one taunting inch at a time. “Whoah…” you wheezed when he stilled at the top of you, groaning and dropping his head on to your cheekbone. “You’re… gimme a minute, Buck, holy…”

“Shit, doll, you’re so good…” he whispered in a newly dark tone that made you shiver. “I’m gonna fuck you senseless.”

“Oh- okay,” you whimpered as this gorgeous, gigantic soldier began moving inside you, agile hips sliding in, then scooping up and back to do it again. It stung, In the best, possible fucking way it stung and that was perfectly fine because his cock was sliding along you, striking nerve endings like match tips and you were on fire. Bucky waited until you came the first time, groaning as you tightened hard enough to hold his cock at a standstill until you could relax your convulsing muscles enough. With a mischievous wink, he pulled you up, sliding his hands under your ass and standing, thick legs planted and began bouncing you up and down on his slick cock, your thighs and his wet from your finish. Arms and legs wrapped around him like a howler monkey on a palm tree, you gasped and moaned your way through another orgasm before his fingers tightened painfully on your ass and he joined you.

Barely conscious, you felt your beautiful, wonderful Bucky put you on the bed and wipe you clean with a warm cloth. “I love you,” he whispered, “I’ll love you forever.”

“I love you, sweetheart,” you mumbled sleepily, “thank you for waiting for me.”

_Three months later…_

You were all flying home on the pilfered quinjet from a tropical getaway when Clint stifled a guffaw, pointing at the monitor. It was a news clip from Steve and Sharon’s surprise “elopement.” When they realized the entire Avengers crew had RSVP’d their “regrets” to their wedding invitation - they’d even been spiteful enough to send one to you - they decided on a sudden elopement to save face.

“We’re very happy,” Steve’s voice was smooth and commanding, he had the appropriate look of restrained happiness as Sharon leaned heavily against him in her white Chanel suit.

“And we can hardly wait to start our family,” she added, holding up her huge diamond ring. “We have too much love to be contained in two people.”

Steve chuckled in a manly, indulgent fashion. “Sharon’s already found the perfect home to raise our family.”

As everyone else scoffed and groaned, Bucky looked over at you, blue eyes keen. “What are you thinking?” he asked gently.

Taking his hand, you kissed each fingertip. “How goddamned lucky I am.”

_One year later…_

“Will you get the hell off the counter? Damn, you two! We eat there!” Sam was shooing you out of the kitchen after having caught Bucky’s hands down your shorts. 

“Sorry!” you shouted as your delectable boyfriend hauled you into the elevator. You were minutes from getting lucky when F.R.I.D.A.Y’s polite voice halted you.

“Excuse me, Agents Barnes and Smith. Dr. Cho would like to see you?”

Frowning at each other, you called out, “Sure, be right there.”

“I was running some bloodwork from your annual checkups,” Dr. Cho was looking at the two of you, seated in front of her desk and holding hands. She had a slight smile curling her lips. “I found something unusual.”

Your heart started thudding again. What? Shit, cancer? Something horrible? God was going to punish you for being happy, wasn’t he? Of course, it would be you because Bucky was a fucking enhanced super-soldier so he was perfect, so…

“You’re pregnant.”

“Wh- what did you just say?” Your voice was pitched helium-level high. Bucky was frozen next to you, hand immobile in yours.

“You’re pregnant,” she said warmly, “in fact, your hCG levels are so high that I’m thinking multiples, but-”

Bucky’s voice was hoarse, on the verge of tears. “Are they… are you sure they’re okay?”

Cho’s voice softened, “Well, we obviously need to get an ultrasound, but you’re both very healthy and all the blood levels are perfect, James. I have no reason to believe your baby - babies - aren’t just fine.”

Swiftly kneeling in front of him and holding his hands, you didn’t hear her leave her office. “Sweetheart, are you okay? Did you not…” biting your lip, you suddenly wanted those babies. You were nearly weeping with the joy of having his babies inside you. “Did you not want children?”

His reddened eyes rose to yours, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Hydra, they-” he choked for a moment, “they did so much bad shit to me. I didn’t ever think I could get you pregnant. It never…” he was weeping, your beautiful, lovely man.

“Well, honey,” you chuckled wetly, “you did. And I’m so happy. Please, you don’t have to be worried. These babies are going to be wonderful. You’ll see.”

And you did the scans and held his shaking hand and those babies - a boy and a girl - were indeed perfectly healthy and already off the charts for size.

_And yet five months later…_

You were not quite at the waddling stage, but your new husband’s freaking children inside you were the size of a couch and it was only a matter of time before you outweighed his muscled ass. As you opened the door to Dr. Cho’s office, you were nearly knocked off your feet by a furious and tearful Sharon, who shoved past you, followed by Steve, who glanced at you resentfully.

“What the hell was that?” Bucky was frowning as he steadied you. 

Natasha, of course, knew the answer. “Steve’s been trying to knock her up since the minute they eloped,” she said, leaning against the wall. “Apparently their fertility tests came back today. It doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. She wanted to discuss adopting and Steve’s not having any of it.”

Rubbing your stomach, you watched them face each other angrily as the elevator doors closed. “I’m sorry to hear it.”

Natasha looked at you incredulously. “What?”

Shrugging, you gave her a kiss on the cheek, and then shared one with Bucky. “I have everything I never dared imagine could be mine. I’m sorry they’re never going to know what that feels like.”

Rolling her eyes, Nat opened the door for you again. “Whatever, you glowing earth mother weirdo. Get in there and find out how big my niece and nephew are today.”

Squeezing Bucky’s hand, you smiled up at him. “C’mon, gorgeous. You have birthing class with me afterward. We’re gonna learn all about the placenta today!” Watching the blood drain from his handsome face, you laughed. Life could not be more perfect.

  
  



End file.
